Talk You Into It
by sonofatoasterwaffle
Summary: "If he tried, Dean thinks, he's pretty sure he could get off on just Sam's voice in that breathy, fucking filthy tone. Probably wouldn't even need a hand on him. He went without that voice for way too fucking long this time. He's not going to let that happen again. No matter what Dad says about not replacing the stupid fritzed-out phones." Just some fluff to get us through Hellatus


"Dean..." Sam groans, biting into his lower lip.

He knows they have to be quiet, it's just not as big of a priority as it should be right now. "C'mon, please," he begs. "Need it, Dean."

Dean chuckles low and sexy against Sam's hip. "I'll getcha there, Sammy." he promises, trailing his mouth lower but never quite where Sam needs it. "But you've gotta be quiet for me, okay? Can you do that?"

His breath is warm on Sam's skin, making his little brother's hips buck. Dean smirks. This is his favorite version of Sam: bare and begging and needing Dean so badly he can't control the sounds he's making or thing movement of his strung-out body on the old, worn out couch. "Can you be quiet for me, baby?" He asks again, mostly just to make Sam shiver. "Can't put my mouth on you if you can't stay quiet."

Sam nods desperately. "I can, please, Dean need you so bad. Need you to give it to me."

If he tried, Dean thinks, he's pretty sure he could get off on just Sam's voice in that breathy, fucking filthy tone. Probably wouldn't even need a hand on him. He went without that voice for way too fucking long this time. He's not going to let that happen again. No matter what Dad says about not replacing the stupid fritzed-out phones.

He takes Sam in hand, leaning forward to lick the head to get that breathy gasp out of his brother. "Ahh... Dean please, please, _please!" _

Dean squeezes the base of Sam's cock to keep him back from the edge, even though he knows he shouldn't. He knows he should just finish Sammy off and let him return the favor so they can be done before Dad comes back. But he wants one more thing. Needs to file it away in his mind for the next time he and Dad are on another long hunt. "Talk to me, Sammy. Tell me what you want."

Sam whines, pushing his pelvis forward as Dean starts mouthing along the insides of Sam's thighs again. He stays quiet except fore those little keening noises Dean's drawing out of him with every nip and suck, so Dean draws back to look at him. To coax the words out of his little brother's mouth.

Sam is blushing, and Dean can't help but smile. Sammy will give it up to him anywhere, anytime. Hell, he's dropped to his knees in a public restroom and sucked Dean down his throat like a fucking porn star more than once. Another time, he even jacked Dean while Dean was driving- with Dad about ten yards ahead of them. And yet, the kinky little bitch is too embarrassed to talk dirty when alone in an apartment with the only boy he's ever loved- even just the one sentence his big brother is asking for.

"C'mon, baby," Dean prods. "All you gotta do is tell me what you want and it's yours."

When Sam's blush only deepens, Dean keeps talking, squeezing words in between the most teasing kisses and licks applied to Sam's cock. "Need help? Can't decide?" His tongue dips into Sam's slit, drawing a somewhat pained whimper. "Want me to put a hand on you? Jack you real slow until you're shaking?"

Sam cries out, tossing his head back. "Don't make me talk, Dean, please!"

Later, Dean will wonder why talking is such a big issue for Sammy, but right now, he's a man on a mission. "You want me to take you to bed? Lick you open until you're all wet and ready and beggin' me to fuck you?" He punctuates this by rolling Sam's balls in his hand, smirking.

The next sound that falls form his Sammy's lips almost makes Dean give in- poor kid sounds about six seconds from crying. But Dean knows Sam better than he knows himself, and he's sure that if he just pushes _that much more, _Sam will give him what he wants.

"Or, you just want me to suck you? Take you all the way and let you come down my throat?"

And that does it. The levee breaks and Sam gasps, finally, desperately, lips pouring that sweetsluttyhot filth into Dean's ears. "Geez, Dean, please, yes, suck me, I'm beggin' you, let me com down your throat, Dean, fuck, I need it, need your mouth, fucking please, Dean!"

And who is Dean Winchester to deny _that _request? He lets loose, taking his hand of the base of Sammy's cock and sucking him down as promised. And it takes all of his will power not to come all over himself , because Sam has evidently decided he no longer has issues with talking dirty. Which, yeah. Nice. "Yeah, Dean just like that, sogoodsohotDeanplease!"

And then Dean is frantically swirling his tongue around Sam and moaning vibrations into the skin because he'll be damned if his seventeen year old brother outlasts him. But it seems that the heel of his hand pressed against his dick suddenly doesn't matter anymore because Sam is coming like a freight train - pillow shoved between his teeth to muffle the screams Dean's disappointed he can't hear at full volume- and Dean is coming in his jeans like a freaking teenager. But that won't matter either for a few more minutes because he's focused on taking everything Sammy gives him through their tandem-orgasm, swallowing for what seems like minutes on end.

He backs off slightly, gently bobbing his head to milk Sam through it until Sam pushes against his shoulders. "Too much," he murmurs hoarsely.

Dean lets his go with an audible, dead-sexy 'pop' and slides up to kiss his brother's lips. Sitting up, Sam breaks the kiss to reach for Dean before noticing the wet spot on his big brother's jeans. His mouth drops open, eyes wide, "You... You came just from that?"

The older Winchester tries to shrug off his blush. "I've toldja I like your voice." He smacks Sam on the shoulder. "'Sides, we're runnin' out of time."

He slides off the couch and heads for the bathroom. Still, Sam doesn't move. "Dude, I didn't even touch you."

Even the pillow hurled mercilessly at his face doesn't wipe the wonder off of Sam's face. Son of a bitch. He's never going to hear the end of this.

* * *

His big brother came just from having his mouth around Sam and listening to him talk. His mind starts to wander to every filthy thing he could do with this information even as Dean urges him to get dressed. "C'mon, kid, Dad's gonna be home any minute."

Good little brother that he is, Sam tugs his boxers and jeans back on, stealing one of Dean's t-shirts before following him into the bathroom. While Dean's in the shower, Sam scoops his discarded clothes off the floor to deposit them in the washing machine they've been beyond thrilled to have in the apartment. He's sure Dean would rather not deal with the evidence of what Dean would consider an embarrassing experience.

When Dean does emerge, he's got a towel wrapped around his hips and he won't look at Sam. The younger Winchester could've guessed his brother would act like this, but he'd been holding out hope that maybe he'd let it be. Sam doesn't exactly know how to console him, how to make it okay. This isn't usually his department. He takes a deep breath and slides off the bed, making his way to wrap his arms around Dean's waist. "Dean," He begins, not quite sure what he's going to follow that up with.

Thankfully, Dean cuts him off, turning around to frame Sam's face with his hands. "A month was way too long, okay? Can't do that without goin' a little crazy." He leans forward and kisses him more gently than he ever has. "Missed you. Missed hearin' that voice of yours every day."

Sam smiles, rests his forehead against Dean's. "We'll get better phones, okay? Ones that won't go out like these did. Next time will be better."

Dean sighs his affirmation. "I'll settle for that."

This time it's Sam who attaches their lips, hands moving up Dean's back, kissing him slowly until Dean moans and pushes Sam back. "We've gotta stop. I'm surprised Dad's not home by now."

The words leave his mouth with a grimace, his good soldier personality slipping while finally puling on a pair of jeans. But Sam's not quite finished. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?" comes muffled from inside his shirt.

"Love you."

Dean snorts but Sam doesn't miss the grin that flashes across his lips, saying nothing but delivering a stinging slap to Sam's unsuspecting ass. "Hey!" Sam protests, because, hey. Rude.

Dean laughs and bends toward Sam to kiss him once more but Sam moves back. "Be nice to me and maybe later I'll recite the periodic table for you."

"Ugh!" Dean groans. "We are _not _gonna keep talking about that."

"Maybe _you _won't."

Sam's on his way out the bedroom door when Dean stops him. "Sammy."

He turns. "Dean."

His older brother ducks his head. "I, uh... I love you, too." A beat of silence. "Bitch."

Sam grins. "Now, was that so hard, jerk?"

He's not surprised when he gets another pillow to the face.


End file.
